Communications

I do want to write about two short trips we took but I had a humorous encounter at the gym that I thought I should mention.  First of all, the saga of joining the gym at Bocconi (Ken's affiliation for the year).  We were told in order to join we would have to find a local internist, have an exam and then have the physician sign a release form so we could use the gym.  Ok, but to do that we would have to first join the National Health plan. (Visions of weeks of bureaucracy appeared before us.)  Fortunately a very helpful young man at the gym said that if we had a release emailed or faxed from our U.S. doctor that would be fine.  Our doctors responded immediately to the request and Ken and I are now registered at the gym.  A number of people have apologized for the gym.  Granted it is small but very convenient and we are not gym rats.  Our needs are minimal.  Also, a new gym will open next month and will be larger. 

Yesterday I had an appointment to see a trainer.  The plan was to learn about several of the machines and organize a reasonable workout.  The appointment was at 4 in the afternoon.  I was not sure what to expect.  I walked in and several guys were gathered around the check in desk (the operative word is guys.  In an institution of 16,000 students where are the women in this gym?  A few are there but it is overwhelmingly male.) 

The several guys decided that they would be helpful.  (Remember that all these interactions were in Italian.  Each of them had a very little English to work with and we already know how little Italian I have).  One wanted to know what type of workout I wanted -- pointing to various parts of his body.  I indicated a complete one.  Another wanted to make sure I knew where the lockers were and what keys I should use to get into the locker room.  I did but it was easier to just follow along.  Finally the older man who the others called the boss indicated that he was the trainer.  I pointed to the appointment book so he could see my name.  He put me on the cycle for a 10-minute warm-up  I think at this point they were all wondering what this little old lady was doing at the gym.  I tried to tell them I had a trainer in the U.S. but I am not sure that message ever got through.

The trainer than went over a few floor exercises - these were fine but he couldn't continue because the phone kept ringing.  He sent over a very sweet young guy who is training to be a trainer.  He was very concerned that I could manage these exercises.  I had to demonstrate that actually I could do a number of them.  He also had very little English and several times apologized.  Not to worry.  He had more English than I had Italian.  He also asked me several times how to translate biceps and triceps into English.  It was a funny conversation all around.

At the end he entered the exercises and the number of repetitions into the computer and asked my assistance in naming the machines in English.  I was not too helpful.  I have no idea the names of these machines, I just use them.  By this time several guys were back at the check-in desk and had a few more suggestions for what I could do.  Mind you they were all speaking in Italian and I could tell they were teasing me.  Hey, I said, That's not fair.  They all laughed. 

So grandma will return, not pumping iron but an hour and a half work out is not bad.